


In search of his princess

by tenser



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comedy, Crack, M/M, Nanpasen, deliberately bad erotica, jaw-dropping metaphors, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenser/pseuds/tenser
Summary: Georgi can't find his princess! But he finds Yakov in a princess dress.
Relationships: Yakov Feltsman/Georgi Popovich
Kudos: 2
Collections: Wrecks of Ships





	In search of his princess

Georgi, the second-best figure skater in Russia, was so distraught – so very distraught as he stumbled through the hallways of the Russian training hall, bumping into other ice skaters. The others were not too happy to be treated like human bumper cars. They grumbled back at him.

“Watch it, Georgi.”  
“Wake up, Georgi.”  
“Hey, I’m walkin’ here!”

Their coarse words didn’t reach Georgi’s ears. Nothing reached his unseeing eyes. 

“My princess… Where did my princess go…?” he mumbled.

Hearing this pathetic lament, couple of female skaters raised their palms in front of their lips in false modesty and mocked him. 

“Oh, did Georgi see Anya doing the dirty with that hunky hockey player? Did he see them fucking like dogs behind the bleachers, the hockey player’s huge manly rippling arms grasping her tiny perfect waist and rutting into her from behind like he was trying to breed her? He couldn’t possibly have seen them going at it like it was New Years’ Eve 2019 and they had to get a full years’ fucking in because 2020 was about to drop. Speaking of dropping, do you think Georgi’s balls ever dropped? Maybe that’s why Anya dumped him! Tee hee,” they laughed merrily to themselves with sharp smiles that cut across their faces. 

No, Georgi heard nothing. 

Except maybe the part about his balls not dropping. 

But no matter. 

He was looking for his princess. She wasn’t responding to his texts – not a single one of the 27 he’d sent that morning. She wasn’t responding to his calls. She wasn’t on the ice rink. That could only mean one thing: she had been kidnapped.

Yes, she was undoubtedly at the whim of a wild madman. She was crying out for Georgi, choking on the syllables because the evil kidnapper was stuffing his cock in her mouth. He could hear her pleas: “Hor-hi…! Hrgh-hi!”

“Georgi!!”

The voice that called him by his name was deep, and irritated. Georgi dragged his gaze from a fretful point on the ground up to the source of the voice. It was Yakov. Georgi had wandered into Yakov’s office. And Yakov was wearing a princess dress because of course he was. 

“Are you my princess?” Georgi asked.

“ _Nyet_ , I’m not your princess, you dimwit,” Yakov grumbled. “I was just wearing this for reasons.”

“Princess!!!!” Georgi shouted as he threw himself at Yakov’s feet. 

The man was a mountain, and Georgi was ready to climb to Station 5. Hiking up Yakov’s skirt, he licked a trail from his coach’s dirty, smelly socks that were older than Georgi, through deciduous forests of thick curling leg hair on varicose “soil.” Further he went up Yakov’s fat thighs until he reached the hefty chub of “Station 5,” also known as Yakov’s dick and big old balls. 

“Humpf!” Georgi said as he grabbed a big juicy nut between his teeth. 

“ _Gav’no_!” Yakov swore. “This is why Anya left you!”

“Nyah-nyah-nyah,” Georgi said, plugging his ears as he gently gnawed at Yakov’s bulge. “I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

“You’re dumber than Victor, and that’s saying something,” Yakov said. Then he softened. Having realized that neither insults nor the stench of his underwear so ancient that it was Soviet-issued would drive Georgi away, the old coach relented. 

“Okay, suck me off.” Yakov said. “Whatever you have to do. It’s better than watching you pine over your ex like a drunk staring at an empty bottle of vodka.” 

Suck, Georgi did.

Georgi’s mouth fit over Yakov’s big solid rod like a hungry swan deep-throating a kolbasa sausage. When Yakov pulled up his skirt enough to watch Georgi’s blowjob, he immediately put the skirt back over Georgi’s face because it looked like the Ghost of Halloween Past was giving him a blowjob. Either that or a cross between David Bowie and the Joker.

“Turn around,” Yakov said gruffly. 

Georgi bent over the desk, wiggling his ass for his princess to appreciate. Yakov grunted and placed his weird pointy hat on Georgi’s stupid flat-top haircut. Even though Georgi was faced away, Yakov didn’t want to chance seeing the Joker again and losing his boner. (For the record, he only took Viagra for the articles). 

Yakov reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a giant pump bottle of ice-skate-lube which is not a thing but it is now. Georgi felt a big Baja Blast of wetness splurt all over his buttocks. His hole immediately gaped with anticipation. 

“Fuck me, princess!” Georgi moaned. “Let me wake you from that terrible horniness that’s afflicted you!”

“Just shut up,” Yakov said. 

Georgi gasped as Yakov shoved his soviet junker inside Georgi’s sleeping beauty (AKA his asshole). Georgi screamed, “Wake me up inside!!! Wake me up inside!!! Say my name and save me from the dark!!” as Yakov continued to plow Georgi’s fertile fields with his cock in hopes of one day harvesting fresher metaphors. 

Georgi squirmed as Yakov’s meaty paws and hanging belly held him in place. He loved the deep raw pleasure of being barebacked by his hefty, aged princess. 

Georgi screamed again. “Yes, princess!! I’m so close to WAKING UP INSIDE!!”

“You’re such a goddamn drama queen,” Yakov said. “Just shut up and let me fill your piroshky. Anya’s not the bitch, you are.”

“All women are queeeeeens!!” Georgi shouted as he came. 

After a few more thrusts with his meat scepter, Yakov cried out, “I always wanted to be a queeeeeen!” and ejaculated into Georgi’s willing cavity, AKA, Yakov filled Georgi’s piroshky. 

As Georgi lay panting on his coach’s desk, Yakov collapsed into his desk chair with a loud thud and a sigh. 

Yakov commented, “I think you could make that into an ice skating routine.” 

“But…” Georgi said, as shame started to color his face even more colorfully than the “creative and unique” makeup he had applied. “What we just did wasn’t ice skating. We had sex.”

“Always worked to inspire Victor,” Yakov said.


End file.
